


Fight or Flight

by badboy_fangirl



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-23
Updated: 2011-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-27 22:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/300525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badboy_fangirl/pseuds/badboy_fangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damon's growing feelings for Elena seem to make him more...um, aware of his conscience? (Much to his degradation.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight or Flight

Corruption breeds corruption, it’s been said. Damon adheres to this in an offhand manner, because though he was corrupted—first at Katherine’s hands, and then later at Stefan’s—he knows there are some who tend to be impenetrable.

Stefan’s behavior is worrisome, not because Damon wouldn’t delight in him actually being corrupt, but because he knows, deep down, Stefan is truly incapable. (He’s not incapable of being a full-on vampire, but he’s certainly incapable of living the life whole-heartedly.) The lying and the stealing are huge red flags because that recklessness is going to get Stefan caught, not to mention compromise Damon’s position.

Who knows what could happen to Elena because of it. (He thinks of the broken lamp in her bedroom, the one she lied about.)

His instinct to enjoy Stefan’s struggle is squashed by a number of possibilities that end badly, for each of them.

So he chooses to enjoy it because of the trouble it can cause between Stefan and Elena. It’s an un-Damon-orchestrated event of epic proportions.

At least that’s what he tells himself as he makes his way to the upstairs room of the Mayor’s Mansion the day of the Miss Mystic Falls Pageant.

He’s not lying when he tells Elena how happy it would have made him if Stefan had picked up this habit a month earlier. Part of their century and a half continual tug of war has always been Damon urging (tormenting, antagonizing, whatever) Stefan to give into the thirst. It was only fair, after all, since that’s what Stefan had done to him all those years before.

He has an odd moment, though, standing between them as Elena says, “I know about the blood, Stefan.” There’s a twinge in the vicinity of his non-beating heart, and it actually pains him, that flash of betrayal in his brother’s eyes, as he sidles out the door, leaving them alone.

He shakes his head once he’s out of the room, trying to dislodge that stupid thought. He could stand there and listen to their argument, but he doesn’t. Instead, he goes downstairs to the bar and gets a drink, trying to shove these new (old) feelings of… _guilt?_ away.

Scoffing to himself, he thinks firmly, _I don’t have anything to feel guilty about_. He sips his bourbon, trying to ignore the words Elena had said upstairs. “This is all my fault. I’m the one who fed him the blood in the first place!” He looks around the room, sees Jeremy chatting up Pearl’s daughter, hears their urgent whispers, and realizes something’s going on there. He wonders what Elena will think when she finds out her baby bro is banging a vampire.

He can’t completely distract himself, despite his best efforts to focus and observe everything going on around him. People talking, Uncle John lurking, the escorts lining up at the foot of the stairs, awaiting the girls' arrival. He hears Elena’s words again, and he throws back the rest of his drink. He didn’t tell her to make her feel badly. He told her because he hopes she can get Stefan in line.

 _But one can’t go without the other_. He understands this a bit too late (and feels rather foolish that it didn’t occur to him sooner).

The first girl comes down the winding staircase ten minutes later, and Damon moves so he has a better view of it. He looks around, realizing for the first time that he hasn't seen Stefan descend the stairs either, and really that is surprising, because there's no doubt his brother will have a few words for him the next time he sees him.

Girl number two descends the stairs, and then Caroline Forbes. She smiles sweetly at her escort and Damon feels another twinge in his chest. Caroline had been a good time. He probably shouldn't have treated her so terribly. (What the fuck is his problem? Since when does he care about those he's used?)

Elena's name is called, and Damon becomes really aware of Stefan's not being there. He didn't just not come downstairs, he's disappeared altogether, and the tightening in his belly warns him that something bad is about to happen. He moves quickly to the foot of the stairs, seeking Elena's eyes. She looks as disconcerted as he feels, and the worry intensifies.

"Where's Stefan?" she whispers as she reaches the bottom step.

"I don't know," he whispers back, only he's sure he does know. There's supposed to be another girl--five total for this stupid pageant--and she's not there either. Damon leads Elena out the entrance way, into the late-afternoon sunshine, where the other girls and their escorts stand in formation. It's funny how he hasn't engaged in this particular social nicety in more than 145 years, yet his body remembers all the moves with hardly any effort. As they bow to each other, Elena whispers, "What are we gonna do?"

"Right now we just have to get through this," he says. Then he fixes his eyes on hers, trying to comfort her, as well as find some solace for himself. Stefan is about to (or is currently) fucking up everything, and if he weren't suddenly so worried about his brother, he would be so pissed.

He's sort of pissed anyway that Stefan just left Elena hanging. (It's a catch-22, because he knows that Stefan is the dependable one, Stefan is the one who would never disappoint. The fact that he's not there is so dangerous.)

Then, for just the space of a minute and a half, Damon forgets everything about Stefan completely.

As he and Elena dance, he finds himself lost in the depths of her brown eyes. It surprises, and excites, him, and as he takes her in his arms, he can't help but feel everything he's ignored for months. He has no desire to indenture himself to another woman who prefers his brother to him, even one as kind and good as Elena; but there's never any subterfuge with her, he always knows right where he stands. (She told him straight out, most of the time, and generally she was angry or annoyed with him. Except for when she wasn't--when she laughed at his odd jokes, or smirked in response to the same expression on his face, or when she hugged him because she understood everything he'd ever thought about himself had just come to a screeching halt.) She doesn't take any of his shit, and yet she still manages to make him believe she cares. Her eyes never leave his as they move around the small designated space, the dance they're performing something for the mass of people around them, not themselves. But as he guides her body back to its original position and steps back into the place he started from, he knows--mentally--he's no longer where he was. He's in an entirely new sphere, one that includes Elena, and excludes all others.

Even Katherine. Or, perhaps, _especially_ Katherine. The feeling that's been tapping on his shoulder figuratively for such a long time moves with full purpose through his body now. It's actually a relief, in some ways, to know that Katherine isn't the only one he can feel this way about. He's tried through the years, with some of the sorority girls--the ones who weren't so stupid that they couldn't tell there was something different about him. Once in a while one like Bree had popped up, and he'd entertained the thought if for just a moment. But there had never been anyone to really compare. (The possibility that the image he'd carried of Katherine all those years had been false, and was now gone might have something to do with his ability not just to notice Elena, but to appreciate that with her, what you see is what you get.)

Within the hour, Caroline is crowned belle of the ball, Damon and Elena go searching for Stefan, and find him, much to Damon's chagrin and Elena's horror (thankfully the Bennett witch is on hand to disable Stefan long enough to stop his madness), and then Damon's telling Liz all the same lies he's rattled off to her time and time again.

He stands in the wooded area with the sheriff, wondering where his brother has gone, wondering what he and Elena are going to do about this whole situation. It's that moment, that quiet one with nobody around who knows the truth about him, that Damon Salvatore discovers his own implacable reality.

There _is_ an Elena and him, and they are going to have to _do_ something. His certainty that he can rely on her help is more faith and trust than he's felt for anyone in a century and a half.

But what exactly they're going to do is beyond him.

~*~

She's standing next to his car, waiting for him. He just received some unknown not-a-pocket-watch hardware from Pearl and her little Jeremy-loving daughter, and it made him forget about Stefan again, for just a few minutes.

(Not like how he'd forgotten about him while he danced with Elena, but still. It was nice to have his mind distracted for a moment, anyway.)

It's dark, only one street light casting a big shadow over the parking lot, and he can't make out her face at first, but he knows it's her. He feels like now, he'd know her anywhere, anytime, almost without his senses.

( _Whoa, Romeo. Way too romantic. Way too stupid_.)

Before he can ask her what she's doing there, she holds up a cylinder and the light hits it just right. He recognizes it immediately, and looks around, wondering where the teacher is, and if he knows that Elena has stolen some of his Vampire-fighting weaponry.

"Vervain," she says, her voice slightly hoarse. "For Stefan," she adds.

Damon blinks, only because along with everything else that this _no good, very bad day_ has entailed, he never expected her to suggest such a _painful_ solution.

He sort of wants to kick his own ass for not thinking of it himself. What had Stefan done when he thought Damon was out of control? He's close enough now to see her stoic expression, and she continues with, "We can put him in the basement. Like he did you."

He's startled. "He told you about that?" Seems so uncomely of Stefan, to tell his perfect little girlfriend about how he'd handled the dark family secret.

She shrugs. "At one point, I demanded everything. So he told me." Dropping his gaze, she examines the vervain dart in her hand. "Can you think of another way?" He can hear in her voice that she really, really wants him to have a plan.

It actually bothers him that he doesn't have an escape route for her. He moves closer, leaning his hip against the car so he's next to her. She turns her head, looking up at him hopefully. "No," is all he says. She nods, looks away. Her disappointment is palpable, and not directed at him, he knows, but it still feels that way. So he says, "I'll do it, though. I'll take him down, and we'll... _rehabilitate_ him."

She shakes her head. "No, Damon. I'll do it. It's my fault. Besides, he might not let you get close to him."

"It's _not_ your fault, and he might _hurt_ you."

She looks him full in the face again, and the ferocity in her expression takes him back a little. "I'll do it," she says firmly.

He doesn't really think Stefan would hurt her, not purposely anyway. But certainly, he's a wild card right now, so Damon will be nearby. "You wanna ride with me?" he asks instead of arguing the point further.

"Yes, my car's not here anyway. I wouldn't want to tip him off that I'm there."

Damon opens the car door for her and as she slides in, he doesn't mention that Stefan will be able to smell her before he sees her anyway. All of his senses will be electrified by the human blood swimming in his system.

Besides, Elena smells...really good.

Rounding the car, he climbs in on the driver's side, starting it without comment. As they ease out on to the road, Elena murmurs, "Seems like all we do lately is try to save Stefan."

He waits a moment to respond. He could come up with a serious response, but that wouldn't really be like him, so he quips, "It's a great bonding experience!"

He hears her chuckle softly, and then she's moving slightly, taking her hair ornament out, letting the strands fall around her face.

It's a good thing he has such keen senses, otherwise the fact that he's so distracted by this movement from her could put them in the ditch. He forces his eyes back to the road, hears her sigh forlornly. "I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here," she says softly.

Reality strikes again, the warmth of her trust wrapping around his heart. He'd do anything to guard himself against her, but he has no shores of defense because she's not doing anything purposely. It all catches him by surprise, and the way it makes him feel is uncontrollable.

Uncontainable.

"You won't ever have to worry about that," he replies.

It's honest. It's heartfelt. It's very un-Damon.

They're near the Boarding House now, it looms in the distance like a giant shadowy predator. He can tell Stefan's not there yet, or if he is, he hasn't turned on any inside lights.

"I know," Elena says.

An hour later he sets his brother's limp body in the dungeon, locking him in for safe keeping. Even if he wanted to he wouldn't be able to leave Elena down there by herself when she states that she's going to stay. He loses track of how long they sit there, rarely talking, but when she finally succumbs to sleep, he scoops her up into his arms and takes her back up to the ground floor.

He lays her on the sofa in the great room; he wants to put her in his bed, and he won't put her in Stefan's. He watches her silently, remembering that night months ago, in her bedroom. She hadn't known he was there then either, but he knows the curiosity of that night has been obliterated by a different emotion.

It's been one hundred and forty five years since he's known fear like this.


End file.
